Happy birthday to me... [ Open ]
Still, I feel no less than thirteen.
John sat on his bed in, strangely enough (to him), Hades domain, the First House of the Crown. His roommate had been missing ever since he got here, though he had been told he had one, and that it was a girl, and that she had pink hair and a lazy air about her, but that wasn’t even close to what the boy was thinking about so let’s leave this for another time. The Hero of Breath sat on his bed with his back to the world and his face to the wall, wearing those silly ‘pajamas’ he’d gotten accustoming to using 24/7. Could you blame him? They were the comfiest pajamas anyone had ever worn— even Dave would have probably been wearing them for god knows how long, irony or not! Actually, speaking of Dave, John probably looked like him currently. He wore a straight face, like his pal usually did, only more melancholic, and around him lay a sombre mood. His glasses slipped down the bridge of his nose. He did not push them back up.
Now, you all know what series John is from, right? Yeah, that’s Homestuck. And what day is it today? Oh, that’s right! The thirteenth of April— and it’s the year 2012! So, how many years has it been since Homestuck began? If you guessed two, you’re wrong. If you guessed one, you’re ice cold. If you think it began today, then how come John was here before that? You’re silly. If you guessed that it’s been three years since the webcomic began, you’re right on the mark! Today, unbeknownst to him, was Homestuck’s third anniversary.
But it was also his birthday. And there was no one to celebrate it with.
…Well, that’s not a total lie- but the only person he knew right now from back home was Dave. And doubtless Dave would throw a party for his bro- that was totally uncool. And John wouldn’t hold it against him! It’s not that he wasn’t the type to hold grudges— he was (small ones though, and he was very forgiving), but…
He missed his other friends, too. He missed Rose and Jade— and the Trolls! He missed Vriska, Terezi, even Karkat and all his yelling! But, in all honesty, most of all…
Memories of his father’s death flashed at a rapid pace in his head, quicker than he could think. No, his dad was not the only thing he cared for, obviously, but think about it. If you lost your dad, and your dad was nice and caring, who made you cakes (even though John hated those Betty Crocker goodies), who was proud of you,
Well, our Heir of Breath does. And although Egbert didn’t want to believe it, he knew— deep in his heart, he knew— that he could never see him again.
A lot more than he thought it would. Than he ever thought it would. More than all the times he died.